


A Kiss to Begin It

by Kita_the_Spaz



Series: Sockathan Week [1]
Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Sockathan Week-Day One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan wasn’t sure what the hell— pun intended— was going on with his personal demon, but Sock had definitely stepped up his annoyance game to a whole new level. While Sock had never really had any appreciation for the concept of personal space, he’d been doing a lot more than simply invading Jonathan’s personal bubble lately.</p>
<p>Written for <a href="http://sockathanweek.tumblr.com/">Sockathan Week</a> Day one: Kisses</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss to Begin It

To say Sock had been invading Jonathan’s space all day would be an understatement, Jonathan thought sourly, unlocking the door and shouldering it open. He sighed and dumped his backpack by the door, glancing around. Sock was still lingering by the sidewalk, watching a pair of squirrels chasing each other around the trunk of a tree.

Jonathan closed the door, knowing that it wouldn’t deter the demon, who could phase right through it at will. The house was quiet, but that was a state sure not to last long with Sock in the vicinity.

Jonathan wasn’t sure what the hell— pun intended— was going on with his personal demon, but Sock had definitely stepped up his annoyance game to a whole new level. While Sock had never really had any appreciation for the concept of personal space, he’d been doing a lot more than simply invading Jonathan’s personal bubble lately. 

Jonathan suppressed a shudder at the remembered feel of cool fingers skating over the back of his neck, a ghostly caress that had nearly made him jump out of his skin in algebra. That had been nothing compared to the icy shock of Sock passing through his chest in gym. The numbing feel of it had nearly made him collapse. Sock had passed through him many times before with no ill effects, but then it was like being plunged into sub-zero water. It had left him with a chill all day that no amount of warm sunlight could counteract.

Ignoring the empty rumble of his stomach, Jonathan headed for the bathroom, hoping to get a shower in before Sock got bored with watching the squirrels. He’d worry about food when he felt less grimy and warm again. Grabbing a pair of boxers and a white tank shirt out of the pile of clean laundry waiting to be folded— he’d get to it later, geez— he shut himself in the bathroom and turned the water as hot as he could bear it. 

He'd just finished and was toweling his hair dry when he heard Sock calling his name. Frowning, Jonathan ignored the plaintive calls and finished dressing.

Sock stuck his head through the bathroom door. "There you are! Didn't you hear me calling you?"

Jonathan threw his towel at Sock's head. It passed harmlessly through Sock and fell to the floor, but the gesture made him feel better. "Dammit, Sock, I told you the bathroom is off-limits! Especially when I'm taking a shower!"

Sock chuckled. "But you're already dressed. Besides, it not like it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Jonathan knew his ears were turning red. "I don't care! Quit trying to memorize mine!"

Laughing, Sock stuck his tongue out and widened his eyes till it looked like they would bug right out of his head.

He would have pushed right through Sock, but the memory of the icy chill kept Jonathan rooted in place. "Just bug off until I've brushed my teeth, pest."

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief when Sock withdrew from the doorway. He hurriedly scrubbed his teeth and took a quick swig of mouthwash, gargling and spitting it out in the sink. He made it through the door in record time, glad that Sock had decided not to stick his head back in. He really didn't want to feel that bone-numbing cold again.

Sock was nowhere in sight, and Jonathan had a nagging feeling he knew just where his personal demon was hiding. He wasn't that hungry after all, he decided. Let Sock cool his heels in the fridge until he got bored. It would serve him right.

Jonathan grabbed his backpack and headed to his room. Maybe he could get a start on his homework before Sock figured out that he wasn't going to open the fridge.

He didn’t bother with his desk, sprawling on his bed with his algebra textbook and worksheet. He hated math and if he got bored enough, would put it off indefinitely, so best to start on that first and work his way up to subjects he actively disliked a little less. He got through most of the worksheet in record time without Sock whining for his attention.

Jonathan was on the last equation when Sock drifted in, a sulky expression pushing his features down into an almost comical scowl. 

"Jonathan, I'm bored," he whined, trying for pitiful and managing to only look like a spoiled child demanding a treat.

Sighing, Jonathan looked up from his work. "If you're bored, why don't you go back to wherever it is you go when you're not annoying me?"

"Hell," Sock sighed, rolling his eyes and looking put upon. "There's literally nothing to do down there unless you're interested in watching the place being renovated."

"Poor, poor pitiful demon," Jonathan chided with a snort. "It's not my job to entertain you. It's your job to drive me into killing myself, at which you _still_ suck, by the way."

The barb was a well-used one, its edges blunted by repeated usage, but Sock still winced, his pout vanishing into a concerned frown.

Sighing, Jonathan sat up, shoving his textbook off to one side. He’d never finish his worksheet now... or at least not until Sock finally gave up for the day and went off to his little corner of hell or wherever. “What do you want?” he asked. Sock was an attention whore, so usually a little bit of attention would keep him happy and occupied. 

Sock nibbled on his lower lip, one hand fidgeting with his goggles. He looked uncertain.

It wasn’t a look Jonathan was used to seeing on the little pest. He might look confused or worried on occasion, but rarely was he uncertain of anything. 

After a long moment of silence and enough ADHD-fueled fidgeting and twitching for an entire schoolyard of hyper toddlers, Sock looked up. His green eyes met and held Jonathan’s gaze, a look of determination welling up. “Can— can I touch you?”

Jonathan felt his mouth drop open. "Seriously? You've been messing with me all damn day and _now_ you want to touch me?"

Sock looked away, tugging his hat down. “It’s hard for me to touch you unless you want me to. I mostly go right through you.”

Jonathan shuddered at the memory of that unnerving cold again. “You managed in algebra,” he retorted, the feel of cool fingers trailing across the back of his neck coming to the forefront of his mind.

Sock glanced down at his own hand, flexing his fingers slowly. “Sometimes. Mostly when you’re really distracted, and not even always then. It’s not really a... not really well-defined. The rules are always changing.” Closing his hand into a fist, Sock looked up, green eyes hopeful. “The only time I know it works for sure is when you want it, like the time you shoved me off the desk.”

Jonathan puffed out his cheeks with an exasperated sigh. “You want me to kill myself and now you want to touch me? Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” Sock was blunt, his eyes flickering briefly, something sad and confused roiling in the emerald depths. “But I just want...”

“What?”

Sock actually flinched. “Nevermind. Stupid idea, just forget it. I’m just being dumb, and silly—”

Jonathan had seen this mood once before, after Sock had held one of those one-sided conversations with himself. He hadn’t liked it then and this time was no different. “Stop that!” he commanded sharply.

Sock twitched, his eyes going wide. “What—?”

“Don’t do that,” Jonathan sighed. “Just don’t— don’t talk down about yourself like that. It’s not righ— not healthy.” He corrected himself. He really didn’t need Sock to know that he thought anything but that goofy smile and cheerfully murderous disposition didn’t seem right.

Raking fingers through his messy bangs, Jonathan sighed again. “Look, just... whatever. If I let you touch me, will you settle the hell down and let me concentrate on my homework?”

Sock brightened, a wide smile showing off all of his slightly-too-sharp teeth. “Really? Yeah!”

“Fine,” Jonathan huffed and scooted over, patting the edge of the bed next to him.

Sock flopped down so enthusiastically he actually sank into the bed some and had to correct, finally managing to settle on the comforter, his weight not even enough to compress the downy fabric in the slightest.

Jonathan had to suppress a smirk. Sock was a bit like a puppy, all enthusiasm, eagerness, and awkwardness, rolled up in colorful clothes and bright eyes.

He huffed a laugh. “So, um— how do we do this?”

Sock nibbled on a thumbnail. “Um, mostly, I think you just have to want to allow me to touch you. Maybe if you close your eyes and concentrate...”

“Should I really?” Jonathan frowned. “I mean, you want me dead and now you want me to close my eyes and let you touch me?”

Sock looked stung and his brows drew down. “No! You have to kill yourself. I can’t kill you. I can’t even hurt you!” Sock wildly swung a fist at Jonathan’s face.

Instinctively, Jonathan flinched back, but the fist passed harmlessly through his cheek, without even the cold chill he’d felt earlier.

“See?” Sock pouted. “If I try to hurt you at all, nothing happens. I can’t do _anything!”_

Jonathan sighed and relaxed a little. “Okay, calm down. Let’s do this.” Nerving himself, he closed his eyes and breathed deep, stretching out a hand between them and waiting for the chilling feel of Sock’s fingers on his.

He felt nothing, but Sock made a frustrated sound. Jonathan opened his eyes to see Sock uselessly trying to grab his hand, phasing right through him.

The increasing frustration in Sock’s movements and the almost tearful sheen in his eyes spurred Jonathan into unthinking action. He caught Sock’s hand in his own. “Hey, calm down.”

Sock froze in mid-motion, staring down at Jonathan’s left hand grasping his.

Jonathan followed his gaze, unconsciously tightening his fingers around Sock’s as if to assure himself of the solidity of the hand in his.

All of the tension went out of Sock and he smiled widely. Cautiously, as if Jonathan would become intangible if he made a wrong move, Sock trailed the fingers of his other hand over the back of the hand grasping his, the touch light as a butterfly’s wings.

Jonathan shivered a little at the ticklish sensation, hyper-aware of the feel of Sock’s skin against his. It was cool, not unpleasantly so, but enough to feel the difference in temperature. Sock’s hand slid up his forearm, the light touch more certain. Those cool fingers smoothed up his bare bicep, coming to rest on his shoulder. 

Jonathan sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, letting Sock explore the skin bared by the tank shirt. He felt cool skin trace over his collarbone and into the small hollow at the base of his throat. Unconsciously, he tipped his head back a bit.

The cool skin against his throat warmed a bit, continuing up the line of of his neck. The touch traced lightly, almost teasingly over the curve of his jaw and then skirted up to cup his cheek. Sighing through his nose, Jonathan let his head tilt a bit into the press of the hand against his face.

Warm lips closed gently over his own.

Jonathan jolted, his eyes shooting open, but the hand against his cheek had firmed, holding him in place. 

Sock’s eyes were closed and his lips pressed warmly against Jonathan’s. This close, Jonathan could see the faint color rising to Sock’s cheeks.

Sock sighed softly, his breath cool against Jonathan’s lips. He withdrew and pressed a second kiss to the corner of Jonathan’s mouth, a barely-there brush of lips. His hand left Jonathan's cheek and came to rest over the hand Jonathan had unconsciously tightened around Sock’s fingers.

Jonathan could only sit there, paralyzed by the soft touches. His body had stopped obeying after the second touch of Sock’s lips. He wanted to speak, but his voice seemed frozen into a solid block in his throat.

Sock’s lips ghosted down to press against his jawline, breezing lightly over an old scar from a childhood accident.

Jonathan swallowed, shivering, but unable to move.

Sock’s mouth retraced the path his hand had taken, slipping down the corded line of Jonathan’s neck to rest in the hollow for a long breath before moving on to the slope of his collarbone. Jonathan thought he could feel the ghostly press of teeth against his skin and he shuddered, a small sound escaping past the knot in his throat.

Sock’s lips paused there for a long moment before beginning the descent over Jonathan’s shoulder, back down his bicep and whispering down his forearm to press softly against the pulse beating wildly in Jonathan’s wrist. He lifted Jonathan’s hand to press a firm kiss against his knuckles.

“Thank you,” Sock whispered, releasing Jonathan’s hand.

Jonathan let his hand drop limply into his lap, staring wide-eyed at Sock.

Sock opened green eyes, blinked and turned the color of a ripe tomato. He made a tiny squeaking sound deep in his throat and vanished with a pop of displaced air.

“What the hell?” Jonathan managed through a terribly dry throat. He licked his lips to moisten them and realized he could taste Sock on them, a faint trace, there and gone like smoke, but leaving a lingering sweetness on his tongue.

He flopped back on his bed to stare blankly at the ceiling. He never did finish his homework that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see if I can keep the momentum up for the whole week! (~Doubts it severely~)


End file.
